


Bloom (피어나)

by seawitcher



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Fluff, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seawitcher/pseuds/seawitcher
Summary: Everyone thinks Jongin was kidnapped by Kyungsoo, the god of death, but the man always visited him while he rested surrounded by flowers and talked to him, never forced him to do anything, sometimes he simply stared for hours on end, always with a kind smile on his gorgeous lips, until he had to go back to the underworld. Jongin wasn't kidnapped, not really. He fell into the underworld because he fell in love.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 32
Kudos: 326
Collections: Kaisoo OLAO Chapter Two





	Bloom (피어나)

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: thank you so so so much to the mods for being so patient with me ;w; this prompt (#96) originally had the roles switched, but the prompter allowed me to change it, so thank you! while this is based off of greek myth, i changed a lot to fit the "korean" setting, and i centered the fic around their relationship, rather than the myth itself so please enjoy! title is taken from gain's bloom :3 ((also i wrote jongdae as a zeus-like character way before the current situation! i love him and would die for him,,his power just happened to be lightning ok thank u))

The first time Jongin notices him, Jongin is sitting in the meadow on his own, gathering rapeseed flowers to bring back home to his mother’s cottage. It is just before noon, and he delights in the feeling of the bright sunlight on his skin and the sound of chirping birds and buzzing insects. Everything is in full bloom, and Jongin couldn’t be happier. 

If he were to be honest, he isn’t supposed to be this deep in the forest. His mother forbids him from going too far from home, but Jongin, the young age of nineteen, only wants to see more of the world. He knows there are dangers out there, yet the older he gets, the more he dreads being cooped up and dotted on by his mother at every moment. She has raised him all on her own since he was a babe, Jongin’s father being too busy on his throne in Jisunara to even think about his one of many, many sons. Thus, she’s been so protective of him, moving him and herself to a secluded cottage when Jongin was very young, far from the drama of the gods and goddesses. 

Jongin can’t say that he isn’t happy here though. He loves his mother’s garden, the fields that surround their home, and the lush forest that lies just beyond. The nymphs keep him company when she is away, though they weren’t around when Jongin arrived at this beautiful meadow. It’s odd, but Jongin doesn’t think too much of it.

He hums a soft tune as he gently places each flower into the basket. His mother will no doubt be delighted by his sudden gift of a bouquet. She has always loved flowers and deeply instilled that love into Jongin as well.

A shadow shifts in the trees to Jongin’s left, and he almost misses it in his peripheral. 

His head snaps up, looking to the forest as his hands pause their movements. Jongin tilts his head, eyes just barely making out a human-shaped shadow resting just behind the curtain of a willowing tree. He doesn’t panic, only straightens up in curiosity. 

“Hello?” Jongin calls out.

The figure seems to stumble back as if they weren’t expecting to be noticed. Jongin giggles and says, “No need to be shy. I could use some company.”

Hesitation is clear in the figure’s body language, stepping further back, planning to bolt. Jongin would hate to scare away a new friend, so he takes the last flower placed in the basket, light yellow in color, and holds it out in offering. “Do you like flowers?”

There’s a short pause and a breeze blows through the meadow, the trees and grass shifting. Jongin’s eyes widen as the wind parts the hanging leaves of the willow tree momentarily, revealing pale skin and dark cloth. Not a beast or creature, but someone with some of the fairest skin Jongin has ever seen.

“Please come out?” Jongin beckons once more, the wind settling. 

Ever so slowly, the shadow grows closer, and then a hand appears to part the curtain of willowing branches. Out steps a young man, seemingly no older than Jongin, skin fair and hair short, dark and messy. Dressed in simple black robes, he doesn’t strike Jongin as a nymph, and his face is far too handsome to be a mere mortal.

His body language isn’t as shy as Jongin expected, but his face seems troubled as he approaches Jongin in the meadow. He takes careful steps around the yellow rapeseed flowers in the field, and his eyes avoid Jongin’s once he stands before him. It’s like a child waiting to be admonished by their parents, and in this case, it’s easy to see that he didn’t want to be caught watching Jongin.

Sighing, Jongin smiles and pats the grass next to him. “Well? Sit.”

With no hesitation, the man does as told, leaving respectable space between them. He folds himself up meekly and looks down at his feet. Jongin looks at him expectantly until the man utters, “I’m sorry.” His voice unexpectedly deep and smooth.

Jongin hums and goes back to his work. “I wasn’t fishing for an apology. I want to know your name.”

“B-Beomsil,” he answers, clearly surprised.

“Beomsil?” Jongin purses his lips, racking his mind for a god named Beomsil but comes up empty. He smiles then, petting the petals of a flower in his hand. It’s the first time he’s meeting another lowly god like himself, and it feels nice, knowing he can talk to someone comfortably for once. “I’m Jongin, son of Minseon and Jongdae. Who are you, Beomsil?”

“I am no one.” His voice rumbles through the earth beneath them. Its tenor comforting. “God of pebble and stone.”

“Pebbles?” Jongin giggles, placing the flower in his basket as he turns and looks at Beomsil. The fellow lowly god tucks his unruly tresses behind one ear, and his dark eyes meet Jongin as he does so. “Are you from Jisunara then? It is but one big pebble.”

There’s a sort of satisfaction to seeing a smile quirk on those full lips at Jongin’s jest. “No, I’m afraid I am too forgotten to be present there.”

“We are the same then.” Jongin sighs, dragging the basket of flowers to rest in his lap. “I am sure that my father has already forgotten about my existence, along with the rest of the gods.” He then realizes what he’s doing and stops himself with a laugh, looking at Beomsil. “I must sound ridiculous, telling all of this to a stranger who was spying on me.”

Beomsil’s porcelain cheeks turn pink, and he toys with the rough edging of his robes. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs again. “I didn’t mean to, um, intrude.”

“So you were going to stand there, watch me, and never greet me?” Jongin smiles in amusement. “Why is that?”

Looking away, Beomsil opens his mouth and closes it, pressing his lips together. Jongin begins to think he’s going to keep his silence until Beomsil, with his head still turned, softly says, “You are...beautiful. M-More lovely than anything I have ever seen.”

Shocked into silence, Jongin’s entire body heats up and his heart palpitates in his chest. This is different from his mother calling him a “handsome boy,” different from the way the nymphs fawn over him. This is the first time someone not obligated to has called him beautiful, and Jongin doesn’t know what to say or do, doesn’t know how to feel.

However, before he can muster up some sort of response, Jongin hears the voice of his mother calling out, “My son, where are you? I’ve returned from the market!”

Jongin gasps and scrambles to grab his basket while Beomsil stands. He doesn’t even think before beginning to run across the meadow, worried that his mother will find out that he ventured this far into the forest. However, he turns around to bid Beomsil a goodbye, only to find the man gone, no trace remaining that he was ever there.

A frown makes its way to Jongin’s face. Perhaps he scared Beomsil away.

“Jongin? Where have you gone off to?” His mother calls again, and Jongin leaves the meadow.

Their little cottage is situated on a hill, a field of long, luscious green grass and poppies growing all around it. Just behind their home is the garden that Jongin and his mother tend to and the pen that holds their single cow and goat. This humble place, isolated from the nearby mortal towns and the clouded oasis of Jisunara, is what Jongin has called home for nearly all of his life.

His mother, Minseon, is standing by her wooden cart with their mule, unloading her purchases from the market on her own. Jongin is quick to set his basket of flowers down on the porch and move to help her. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t hear your first call.”

Minseon side-eyes him with her sharp gaze. “I am not so naïve, Jongin. I know you heard me the first time. What were you up to?”

Jongin flushes and knows that his mother would be furious if she found out how far he ventured, not to mention the fact that he spoke to another god. He’s never kept this big of a secret from her before, but the lie tumbles from his lips before he can stop himself. “I was picking rapeseed flowers in that field next to Mr. Choi’s house, a-and then I wanted to talk to the nymphs, but I couldn’t find them.” He hides his face as he picks up a sack of rice.

“You went all the way to Mr. Choi’s?” Minseon raises a brow in disbelief. “I didn’t know that rapeseed flowers grew over there.”

“I thought I would surprise you,” Jongin admits with a smile, dodging her last statement. As expected, his mother immediately melts at his words and reaches up to pinch his cheek in adoration.

“My handsome boy, thank you, but don’t go too far on your own.” Minseon sighs with a worried smile, her hand moving to brush back Jongin’s blonde bangs. “I know you’ve grown, but it’s still dangerous out there.”

“I know, Mother.” Jongin leans into her touch. He’s heard this many, many times before - that it’s dangerous for him to be living in the mortal world as a god. Anyone could decide they want a son of Jongdae’s and come after him with evil intent, but nothing close to that has ever happened in Jongin’s nineteen years. It’s likely that the gods and goddesses of Jisunara have long forgotten about his mother and himself.

“How about I get started on supper? Would you mind tying up and feeding Chaji for me?” Minseon steps away, grabbing her basket of vegetables, and Jongin nods obediently, closing the cart.

Untying the lead from their mule, Jongin leads him over to the fence, sighing in relief as his mother slides the front door behind herself and leaves him alone outside. That was the first time he directly lied to her, and he still isn’t sure why he did it, only that he didn’t want her to know about Beomsil or about the little meadow he found. 

“Chaji, what am I doing?” Jongin mutters, placing the wooden bucket of hay in front of the mule. Chaji only whinnies at him before indulging in his meal, and Jongin sighs picking up the empty water pail and wandering over to the well nearby.

_ “You are...beautiful. M-More lovely than anything I have ever seen.” _

A shy smile makes its way to his face, and Jongin hugs the pail to his chest as he twirls around the stone well. Beomsil was so handsome, his voice so soft and deep. Jongin’s heart skips a beat, and he wonders if this is what love feels like? Or whatever comes before love?  _ Interest? _

Leaning against the well, Jongin blushes. It’s the first time he’s experienced this. He’s had suitors in the past, mortals from the nearby villages who thought his mother would give them a chance. But Jongin has never spoken to them, never had friends or companions other than the nymphs. Jongin has only heard stories of love or seen glimpses of it when they go into town - lovers holding hands, kissing, whispering sweet nothings.

Small flowers sprout and bloom around Jongin’s feet as he imagines what it would be like if he had someone like that. Someone to talk and tell all his thoughts to. Someone who will hold him and whisper their own sweet nothings into his ear. The thought gives him goosebumps, wondering if Beomsil means to court him in such a way. 

He sighs, realizing how ridiculous he sounds, and the little sprouts at his feet wilt. He’s not a little boy, and he knows people don’t fall in love instantly. Besides, he knows next to nothing about Beomsil. Jongin isn’t even sure if he will come back.

“Jongin! Have you finished up yet? It’s going to get dark soon!” His mother’s voice interrupts him once again, and Jongin flusters, nearly dropping the pail down the well.

Maybe he should just forget the whole thing ever happened.

Jongin says that to himself, yet a few days later, when his mother leaves to visit a friend, he ventures out into that little meadow again. He carries no basket with him this time, just himself and an old, tattered blanket, and hopes that if what Beomsil said was true, he would come back. 

It takes him a little while to find it, but his wandering leads him down the correct path, and before long, he breaks through the trees to find the same little meadow of rapeseed flowers, flowing in the gentle breeze. Jongin hums at the pretty sight of all the yellow petals and finds a relatively clear spot to lay out his blanket, something his mother knitted a long time ago.

He lies down on his back, staring up at the sky and watching the clouds slowly skirt by. Even if Beomsil doesn’t show up, at least Jongin can enjoy the beautiful day, though he can’t say he wouldn’t be disappointed. Jongin has tried to keep those amorous thoughts out of his head, but his vision of the mysterious Beomsil only grows fonder with the time spent apart. 

Jongin turns his head to look at the willowing tree where Beomsil had first appeared. There is no shadowy figure this time, so he sighs and directs his gaze back to the sky. “Beomsil? Are you watching?” Jongin hums teasingly to himself.

A cooler breeze rustles through the meadow, drawing Jongin’s eyes back to that tree canopy, and he nearly jumps at the sight of Beomsil drawing the hanging leaves aside and stepping out. Jongin scrambles to sit up, his gaze meeting Beomsil’s still shy one.

“Y-You came…” Jongin can’t shake the surprise from his voice.

Beomsil is dressed in the same dim colors, and his steps are hesitant as he approaches Jongin, stepping around the flowers as if he’s afraid to ruin them. “I heard your call. I was, um, watching…”

Jongin flushes pink in the realization that Beomsil must have seen him acting all ridiculous and talking to himself. He averts his gaze, suddenly feeling shy himself, but pats an empty space on the blanket. Beomsil moves to sit on the very edge, leaving a respectable space between them.

An awkward silence ensues, so Jongin quickly remedies that. “I thought you wouldn’t return. That maybe I had scared you off.”

Beomsil seems surprised and shakes his head. “Why would I be scared? If anything...I thought that you were scared of someone like me.” He hugs his knees to his chest, and Jongin sees the same vulnerability that he witnessed during their first meeting.

Jongin turns to him. “Did you mean what you said last time? About me?”

He finds that he enjoys the way Beomsil’s pale cheeks bloom red like peonies, bringing color to an otherwise drab palette. Even more so, the way he shifts on the blanket and clears his throat before murmuring, “Yes.”

Jongin can’t help the way he folds up within himself in joy, a smile curling the corners of his lips. “O-Oh, so that’s why you were watching me. Even today?”

Beomsil looks close to mortified, but he nods. “Even today.”

“How long?” The question leaves Jongin’s lips before he can stop himself.

“H-How long?” Beomsil repeats, the direct question surprising him.

Jongin nods. “How long have you...been watching me?”

Beomsil looks away then, hiding his face from Jongin as he quietly admits. “A while.”

“Oh.” Jongin blinks, not expecting that answer, and then he purses his lips. “Nothing...strange, right?”

“No!” Beomsil seems to surprise himself with how vehemently he answers, even Jongin jumps a little. “I-I only watched you when you were with the nymphs or when you were tending to your garden. I did not mean for it to be intrusive. In fact, I didn’t expect...” He stops himself.

“You didn’t expect to be caught?” Jongin hums with a teasing smile. “A shame I have amazing eyesight.” He laughs.

“I’m sorry,” Beomsil says, pressing his lips together in a firm line. “I dislike that I am disturbing you like this. I shouldn’t be here.” He makes to stand but is jerked back into place with a tight grip on his sleeve. Wide eyes gaze at a smiling Jongin.

“I don’t mind,” Jongin admits, releasing Beomsil’s sleeve. “I, um, don’t have many friends, especially when it comes to other gods. Besides, I’m flattered that you think someone boring like me is interesting.”

In fact, he can’t imagine anything about his life is enjoyable to watch. His days mostly consist of gardening, taking care of the animals, helping his mother around the house, or playing games with the forest nymphs. Mortals most likely have more interesting lives than his own.

Beomsil turns, his cheeks still flushed as he faces Jongin. “I wouldn’t say that at all.” His gaze is sincere as his dark eyes meet Jongin’s. “You are so attentive when you garden and are so joyful when you are speaking to your nymph friends. I can see that you love your mother as you smile brightly when she calls your name, and that you enjoy dancing when you are on your own. You’re very graceful, Jongin.”

By the time Beomsil finishes speaking, Jongin’s face feels hot, like the way he feels when he helps his mother cook and stands over the boiling pot. On top of that, another wave of warmth rushes through him at the way Beomsil says his name. Something about his voice is so...earthy and comforting, and Jongin adores the way it sounds.

He should be embarrassed, but instead Jongin only feels flattered that Beomsil would bother to even notice those parts of him, especially his dancing. His godly abilities are most evident when he dances, so his mother forbids him from doing it, afraid that the mortals living around them could discover his identity. Whenever she is away, however, Jongin indulges himself, the nymphs sometimes joining him.

“Thank you,” Jongin says, otherwise speechless.

Beomsil only smiles, something small and delicate. “I am only telling the truth that anyone with eyes can see.” Despite this, Beomsil seems pleased, the smile unwilling to leave his lips.

Jongin finds himself smiling. “I want us to be friends. Is it alright if I call you Beomsil?”

“F-Friends? With me?” Beomsil’s wide eyes widen even further.

Jongin nods. “You obviously are, um, interested in me,” he feels himself blushing again, “and I...with you, so why not?” His twists his fingers in his lap, looking down as he speaks.

“If that’s what you wish, then of course.” Jongin chances a glance up to see Beomsil still smiling, his cheeks remaining the shade of pretty peonies. 

“Will you come and see me whenever I come to the meadow?” Jongin asks hopefully.

“If you call for me, I will come.”

Satisfied, Jongin hums happily and lies back on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky. He only has to wait a moment for Beomsil to do the same, and a sense of calm washes over Jongin. It’s strange. He’s only known Beomsil for days, but Jongin feels so relaxed in his presence. Perhaps it’s because Beomsil has already seen the hidden parts of Jongin, so Jongin doesn’t feel the need to hide any part of himself.

He turns his head towards Beomsil and finds that the other god is staring at him. A soft gasp leaves Jongin’s lips, but neither of them look away. Jongin’s heart is pounding in his chest, feeling Beomsil’s warmth close to him. He smells of petrichor.

It’s then that Beomsil closes his eyes, brows knitting together, and he sighs. “I must go.”

“Already?” Jongin asks, voice a whisper.

Beomsil opens his eyes and nods. “My name is being called. There is work to be done.”

“Even for a pebble and stone god?”

Beomsil snorts, and Jongin is graced with his pretty smile once more. “Even for a pebble and stone god.”

He gets to his feet, and Jongin sits up. “You will return, won’t you?” It’s a strange feeling. Beomsil has yet to take a step away from him, but Jongin already aches for him to lie back down next to him.

“If you call for me, I will come,” Beomsil repeats with a surety to his voice that has Jongin instantly believing him, quelling any uncertainty. He bows once and makes his way out of the meadow with the same careful steps as always. Jongin’s gaze follows him until he steps into the shadows of the willowing tree.

Lying back on the blanket, Jongin already looks to the later date that they can meet again.

True to his word, Beomsil appears in the meadow whenever Jongin is able to visit and call for him. Much to his upset, his mother doesn’t give him any alone time until nearly four days after their latest meeting, and Jongin leaves their home the moment Minseon, Chaji, and their cart disappear down the path leading towards the village.

That day, Beomsil only sits next to him, quietly watching as Jongin weaves straw into a basket. He doesn’t mind at all when Jongin tells him he must do chores, so he has something for his mother to return to. Beomsil even grows curious, though he is ultimately clueless when Jongin hands him a bundle to twine together, rubbing it between his palms clumsily. Jongin cannot resist bursting into laughter at the sight.

“This is...more difficult than expected,” Beomsil admits, blushing. “I am useless.”

Jongin giggles. He adores this bashful side of his friend. “It just takes practice.” 

Frowning, Beomsil admits, “I suppose so.”

“Shall I bring more straw the next time we are to meet, so you may practice?”

“No, thank you.”

Their time ends when Jongin’s mother calls for him, and though it is clear that neither of them wish to part ways, they exchange shy goodbyes. Minseon is none-the-wiser when Jongin runs to help her with unloading the cart, and he can only hope that she gives him alone time soon.

He only has to wait a day before his mother is off to trade some of their fresh squash for barley and rice from a neighbor. Jongin only has to tell her that he wishes to see his nymph friends, and he heads towards the forest with the same blanket tucked under his arm just as she leaves.

To his surprise, Beomsil is waiting for him, standing by the willow tree. There is a faraway look in his eyes as he gazes off into the distance, a breeze ruffling his black robes and his messy hair. A tired, lovely sort of loneliness rests on his shoulders, and it makes Jongin curious as to what kind of live Beomsil lives beyond what he lets Jongin see. 

Jongin hesitates from the other side of the meadow, wanting to watch for just a little longer. However, Beomsil’s eyes fall on to him soon, and Jongin smiles sheepishly, having been caught.

“I thought I would try watching you for once,” Jongin admits, meeting Beomsil in the middle of the field of rapeseed flowers.

The corners of Beomsil’s lips curl up. “There isn’t much to watch when it comes to myself.”

Jongin frowns, unfurling the blanket and spreading it on the ground. “How could I make such a judgement when I hardly know anything about you?” He takes a seat, crossing his arms and doing his best to pout, in the way he knows gets his mother to change her mind.

Beomsil’s eyes widen. “You wish to know about me?” He seems genuinely surprised, pointing to himself as he sits in front of Jongin.

“We’re friends, are we not?” Jongin tilts his head. “You know much about me.”

Looking bewildered as if he hadn’t even considered the idea, Beomsil blinks and straightens up. He clears his throat. “What do you wish to know?”

Jongin purses his lips, thinking, and then decides, “How old are you? I am nineteen mortal years.”

Beomsil smiles in amusement. “ _ That _ is the first question you choose to pose? You do realize I am also a god.”

Jongin nods with a pout. “Immortal or not, I believe it is a fair question, especially now that we are friends.”

“Hmm, fair enough.” Beomsil sighs before admitting, “It has honestly been so long since I counted the years. I don’t believe I even know myself.”

Now it is Jongin’s turn to be bewildered, and he leans closer to Beomsil in curiosity. “So...you are perhaps as old as my mother and father?”

That remark causes Beomsil to turn a deep shade of red. “P-Perhaps.” He seems embarrassed, but Jongin isn’t bothered by their age gap in the slightest. It isn’t as if he looks older or that Jongin is mortal. 

“I don’t mind that,” Jongin shrugs. “I am only surprised. I am just wondering if…” He hesitates, not knowing if it would be appropriate to ask Beomsil such a question.

“What is it? You may ask me anything.” Beomsil has never denied him before, so Jongin clears his throat and continues.

“H-Have you met my father then?” Jongin tries not to sound hopeful, but his eyes light up the moment Beomsil nods. “Truly?”

“Yes, but it has been a long, long time since I have spoken to him,” Beomsil speaks with a sigh, as though the thought of Jongdae tires him. It’s interesting as Jongin’s mother always seems exasperated when Jongin asks her about him too. 

Jongin knows next to nothing about his father, unable to even picture his face. Jongdae, the god who rules over all others from the skies of Jisunara, the wielder of lightning and storms. It is said that the world began with him falling from the clouds, Junmyeon, the god of water, rising from the ocean, and Kyungsoo, the god of death, crawling out of the earth. Comrades and brothers, they carry the balance.

“Is he as bad as Mother says? That he has many lovers and children?” Jongin asks, voice small.

Beomsil looks at him, meeting his gaze, and Jongin startles at the feeling of his hand coming to rest over Jongin’s on the blanket. His hands are cool, despite the warm sun shining over their heads, but comforting nonetheless, and the touch has Jongin’s heart beating faster.

“It is true,” Beomsil murmurs. “With power comes the choice of what you wish to do with it. Jongdae made his choice. He isn’t a terrible person, but he is very much enamoured with himself.” His words are wise and careful, as if speaking from experience. Though it isn’t the answer Jongin necessarily wanted, he feels comforted.

Sighing, Jongin shakes his head. “I suppose it is ridiculous for me to want to know more about him.”

“It isn’t ridiculous. It’s in our nature to want to have a complete family.” Beomsil smiles, his thumb caressing the skin on the back of Jongin’s hand.

“Do you have a family?” 

Beomsil’s smile becomes lonely then, and he lowers his eyes to their hands. “I was born from the earth, and I have been mostly alone since. I do have a lifelong friend named Seonho. He and I live together, but otherwise I am on my own.”

Jongin upturns his palm, intertwining his fingers with Beomsil’s and causing him to look up in wonder. Smiling, Jongin says, “You are not alone. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

To his pleasure, Beomsil laughs a little, a deep sound that Jongin finds he likes. “Yes, how could I forget?” He squeezes Jongin’s hand once in delight.

It’s in that moment that Jongin begins to fully process the fact that he is holding hands with Beomsil, and his face heats up, feeling his palms begin to sweat. He hesitates, wondering if he’s doing it right, squirming a little and catching Beomsil’s attention, who pulls his hand away in concern.

“Wait!” Jongin reaches over to hold his hand again, the volume of his voice surprising the two of them. “I...I like holding your hand. It’s, um, my first time…” His voice grows shy and quiet, and he avoids eye contact with Beomsil. 

“Holding hands?” Beomsil tilts his head, brows furrowing before he fully grasps what Jongin means. “O-Oh, you mean…” He blushes, grasping that Jongin is referring to courting.

“Yes…” Jongin giggles nervously. “It feels...nice.”

Beomsil agrees with a hum, watching as Jongin brings their hands to his lap to hold Beomsil’s hand between both of his own. His hand isn’t any bigger or smaller than Jongin’s, but it is paler, and his nails are short as if he chews on them like Jongin had as a child. His palm is soft, clearly unused to the daily garden and house work that Jongin is put through. Jongin wonders if Beomsil spends his days away from the sun, avoiding Baekhyun’s light.

“What do you do during the d--”

“Jongin! I’ve returned!” 

Jongin nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of his mother’s call, and he relaxes with a groan, frowning that his time with Beomsil is once again cut short. Amused at his pout, Beomsil waits for Jongin to stand before he does as well. 

Staring at their hands, Jongin admits, “I don’t want to leave.”

Beomsil smiles. “Your mother will be worried if you linger any longer. There will always be another time for us to meet again.” He takes a step back then, pulling his hand gently from Jongin’s grip.

He isn’t wrong, but Jongin has no idea of when he will be freed from his mother’s gaze again. If anything, meeting Beomsil has made Jongin realize just how much time he spends with his mother. He hasn’t even been able to see the nymphs lately as his time is split between Beomsil and Minseon.

The “I’ll miss you” spills from Jongin’s lips before he can stop it, and he presses his lips together after but doesn’t take it back. Beomsil only looks at him fondly and replies, 

“As will I.”

Jongin can feel his mother’s eyes on him as he nudges his porridge around with a spoon. He hadn’t said anything about what he had been up to while she was gone as, thankfully, she hadn’t asked. However, sensing her questions, he mumbles, “I was taking a stroll through the woods.”

“Jongin,” Minseon sighs exasperatedly, “I’ve told you--”

“I know it’s dangerous, but I want to explore!” Jongin huffs. “Most men my age are already on their own in the world!”

His mother looks at him in disbelief and scoffs. “Most men your age are mortal! Do you know how quickly you would be sought out without my protection? Married off to some other god for status or something worse?” It’s the same speech she has given him his whole life, and it never ceases to have him feeling guilty - guilty that she gave up so much to give him a more peaceful life.

Already knowing this isn’t an argument he will win, Jongin relents with a frown. “I just want to be free. I feel trapped here, especially when you won’t allow me to go far on my own.” He drops his spoon back into his bowl, slumping down and lowering his head in disappointment.

He hears her sigh again, this time not admonishing, and then Minseon is getting up to sit next to him. The hands that raised him cup his cheeks and tilt his head up, meeting her loving gaze, and Jongin melts immediately, her rosewater scent comforting him. He always feels safe in her arms and doubts that will ever change.

“I just want to keep you safe. You’re my little sprout, my little miracle. I don’t want to lose you, Jongin.” Minseon smiles, combing back his hair. “You make me so happy, every day. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You make me happy too, Mother.” Jongin offers a small smile, knowing just how precious he is to her as she never hesitates to remind him. “But at least let me venture out into the woods on my own. If anything dangerous happens, then I’ll understand. I’ll learn my lesson.”

“Jongin--”

“Mother, please?”

He watches her slowly give in to the begging look he gives her, and Jongin can’t help the smile that spreads on his lips the moment she sighs and says, “Very well, but the moment anything happens, there will be no more wandering around the woods on your own. Understand?”

“Thank you, Mother!” Jongin chirps, diving forward to embrace her and delighting in her laugh as he does so. “I promise to stay safe.”

“I know you will.” Minseon hums, holding her son close. Jongin knows she isn’t giving him a lot, but it is the most she can do at the moment, and for that he is grateful. He just hopes this means he can see Beomsil more often.

With his newfound freedom, Jongin finishes up his morning chores swiftly the following day, the excitement of being able to spend most of it with Beomsil flowing through his veins. His mother, adoring his happiness, decides to send him off with a kiss on the cheek and a basket filled with a light lunch for him to take with him.

She is none the wiser.

His journey to the meadow is typically uneventful as Jongin bypasses the little creek where the nymphs tend to gather. Jongin wonders if they miss him, since he hasn’t spoken to them in so long, Beomsil occupying his mind and his time. It is actually quite odd that they haven’t come to try and find him or interrupt his time with his new friend. They are quite curious and mischievous like that.

Jongin hesitates then, stopping before the rocky path that leads down to the creek. It would be quite cruel to ignore his friends for this long, but on the other hand, he wants to keep Beomsil his own secret. Jongin knows that Yeri, Minhyung, and the others wouldn’t approve of him lying to his mother. With that in mind, Jongin sighs and turns away, fixing on continuing to the meadow.

“I knew you were avoiding us, Jongin.”

He startles at the sound of Yeri’s voice coming from above, and he spins around to see her lounging in the canopy of a tree, her rose-colored hair standing out amongst the green leaves. She wears a disapproving frown, and as if called, the rest of the nymphs step out from the bushes and trees. Jongin instantly feels guilty.

Jongin struggles to defend himself. “I did not mean to! I was just…”

Sooyoung giggles, peeking out from behind the trunk of a tree. “Meeting that lowly god? We’ve seen you going to that meadow.”

“Jongin is in  _ love _ ,” Taeyong singsongs, causing a deep blush to spread on the young god’s cheeks. 

“I-I am not!” Jongin denies fervently. Oh, what if Beomsil hears this? What if he’s watching or waiting for Jongin in the meadow? The thought is embarrassing. 

“But you fancy him, don’t you?” Minhyung asks, a gentle, not mocking smile on his lips as he approaches Jongin.

With an annoyed huff, Jongin drops where he stands to sit on the grass, crossing his legs and holding his head. “This is why I didn’t want you all to find out,” he mumbles, pressing his hands against his warm cheeks.

The four nymphs move to sit next to him, the curiosity in their eyes fully evident and all wearing matching smiles. As much as it makes Jongin want to sigh, he hasn’t been able to talk about his and Beomsil’s blossoming relationship with anyone. He’s only been able to lie on his cot at night and smile to himself as his mother snores next to him, recalling Beomsil’s soothing voice and handsome face, thinking about whatever they had spoken about that day.

Sooyoung is the first to ask, “Well? Is he kind?”

“Yes.”

“What is his name?” Taeyong questions.

“Beomsil.”

“What do you two talk about?” Minhyung raises a brow.

“Um…” Jongin thinks for a moment. “All sorts of things, really. He’s a good listener and very wise. I like...just being in his presence. We don’t have to necessarily talk.”

“Ah,” Yeri says as if just realizing something. “So you two aren’t lovers yet?”

“L-Lovers?” Jongin stutters out, blood rushing to his head. Obviously, he has considered it but to hear it said out loud… “We are friends!”

His loud response has the nymphs laughing and giggling amongst themselves, causing Jongin to turn a darker shade of red and hide his face in his hands once again. With a soft whine, he says, “I don’t know the first thing about being someone’s lover. Beomsil is very handsome and mature and...when he held my hand, it felt like my heart was leaping out of my chest.” His hand moves to rest on his sternum, feeling the beat of his heart, its pace quickening as he thinks back to Beomsil’s petrichor scent, his cool yet comforting touch.

The nymphs glance at one another, unsure of what to say to comfort their godly friend. It’s Minhyung who speaks first, reaching out to place a hand on Jongin’s arm. “Just follow your heart then. It’s alright to not know what to do when it comes to love.” He smiles.

Yeri snorts. “What do you know about love?”

Minhyung blushes. “P-Plenty!”

The nymphs burst into laughter, and it’s so contagious that Jongin can’t help but smile, the weight in his chest being lifted. Even if the nymphs are ignorant to the plight of gods and mortals, they never fail to make Jongin feel happy when in their presence. He couldn’t wish for better friends.

Clearing his throat as the laughs and teases towards Minhyung grow quiet, Jongin says, “You cannot tell my mother about this, even if she asks. I am afraid of her finding out.”

Taeyong nods in understanding along with the others. “Minseon would surely eradicate him in a heartbeat if she knew he was pursuing you.”

“Just like the others,” Sooyoung adds.

“I know I cannot keep him a secret forever but…” Jongin bites his lip, afraid of what could happen if his mother were to find out. He doesn’t want to be ripped away from Beomsil.

Clasping his hands together, Minhyung looks towards the sky. “I wouldn’t fear. I know Jinri has blessed both you and Beomsil. You cannot deny fate.” He speaks of the goddess of love, who is understood to bring lovers together and make every being feel supported and appreciated with her own love.

Jongin smiles wistfully, guiding his own gaze to the clouds. “I hope so.”

A sigh from Yeri breaks the moment of peace, and she says, “Alright, let us leave so that the two lovers may meet. We shouldn’t occupy Jongin’s time any longer.” She grins.

The nymphs all stand then but not before giving Jongin an almost suffocating embrace between the four of them. Jongin yelps but shakes them off with a bright smile, getting up himself and picking up his forgotten basket.

“Don’t be a stranger anymore!” Sooyoung orders before they all skip off into the woods around them.

“I won’t!” Jongin calls, watching them leave with happiness in his heart. He can’t believe he hesitated in trusting his friends until now, and he regrets not speaking to them sooner. It felt nice to confide in someone about the secret he has kept from his own mother.

He makes the journey to the meadow in no time, and when he arrives, Beomsil is waiting, sitting on his own and partially hidden by the rapeseed flowers surrounding him. His hand is reaching out, fingertips just centimeters away from one of the yellow petals. He hesitates, drawing his hand into a fist and ultimately lowering his arm altogether with a lonely expression.

Beomsil looks up as Jongin begins to walk towards him. “Do you not like flowers?” Jongin asks.

“No, I’m afraid they don’t like me very much instead.” Beomsil smiles up at him, and his eyes gravitate towards the basket hanging in the crook of Jongin’s arm. “What have you brought today?”

Confused yet effectively distracted, Jongin sits down next to Beomsil. “I finally convinced my mother to let me go out on my own! She packed me a lunch, but I can share it with you.” Jongin hums happily as he takes a wrapped bundle out of the basket, untying it to reveal two barley and brown rice balls wrapped partially in perilla leaves.

Beomsil blinks as Jongin holds one up towards him. “Here! Please, eat. I don’t mind sharing,” Jongin says with a smile.

Although conflicted, Beomsil takes the rice ball from him with both hands. Still smiling, Jongin looks at him expectantly, and Beomsil turns a soft shade of pink before lowering his gaze shyly and taking a bite, humming as the bland, earthy, but hearty taste settles on his tongue. “It’s good,” he murmurs truthfully.

Jongin chuckles, taking a bite himself. “I know it isn’t much, but...it tastes like home to me.”

Hearing that, Beomsil takes a bigger bite, his cheeks puffing out as he does so. It makes Jongin laugh some more, covering his mouth with his hand as he watches Beomsil adorably struggle to chew such a large bite, bits of barley and rice stuck to the corner of his mouth and upper lip.

Jongin doesn’t think much of it as he reaches forward to pluck the little grains from around Beomsil’s lips, not hesitating to then stick his fingers in his own mouth. It’s only when Beomsil looks at him with wide eyes and reddened cheeks that Jongin realizes what he’s done, feeling his entire body heat up in embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry!” Jongin backs up a little, mortified that he may have crossed a boundary.

Beomsil touches his lips with his fingertips shyly. “It’s alright. I...um, liked it.” His voice is soft as he speaks.

Somehow, that makes Jongin’s face feel even hotter as he stutters out, “O-Oh.”

There’s a period of silence between the two before Beomsil begins to chuckle quietly, and grinning at the ridiculousness of that exchange, Jongin joins in with quiet giggles of his own. He then admits, with confidence this time, “I liked it too.”

The smile Beomsil gives him is nothing but sweet, and the way his free hand moves to rest over Jongin’s on top of the grass, is even sweeter.

If Jongin could describe the past several days with a single word, it would be:  _ bliss _ .

Though his days are still filled with chores, Jongin’s mother always allows him time around midday for him to go out on his own. When she asks about what he’s up to, Jongin either answers partially truthful about spending time with the nymphs, or he spins a complete lie about exploring another part of the forest on his own. Minseon manages to be supportive, though Jongin can spot a twinkle of doubt in her eye nearly every time she lets him go. He knows this is hard for her, but he doesn’t regret asking for more freedom.

He and Beomsil pass the time a number of ways in that little meadow that they call theirs. A couple of days are spent just lounging, staring up at the sky. Sometimes they speak, Jongin asking various questions, and Beomsil giving vague yet fulfilling answers or stories in response.

“Y-You have met Jinri?” Jongin turns his head to the side to gawk at Beomsil.

Beomsil hums, eyes remaining on the clouds. “Only a handful of times, but I have met them both. It was a rare occasion where I was invited to attend a party in Jisunara.”

Jongin exhales in awe. “Even minor gods can be invited?”

Clearing his throat, Beomsil nods. “As I said, it was a rare occasion. Most gods hardly spared a glance at me, but Jinri did. She was kind, and I believe that it is impossible for anyone who has been in her presence to not feel adored by her.” He laughs then as if remembering something funny. “I haven’t thought of it in a while, but she did tell me that I would find love one day. That I would find someone who I couldn’t bear to let go of.”

Jongin’s heart palpitates in his chest as Beomsil turns to look at him. A small voice inside him asks, _ Is that someone me? Am I the one?  _ However, he finds it hard to be courageous enough to ask such a thing aloud. He instead brushes his hand against Beomsil’s, heart beating faster as Beomsil intertwines their fingers.

On another day, Jongin brings a last-minute chore with him in the form of pants to hem, one of Jongin’s older pairs that his mother wants to give to the son of a friend in the village. Beomsil watches quietly as Jongin fiddles with the needle and thread. It’s only when Jongin has made the first few stitches that he notices the attentive curiosity in Beomsil’s eyes, and Jongin looks at him with a smile.

“I can show you how, if you want to learn,” he offers, placing the fabric to the side and patting the space on the blanket in front of him.

Beomsil moves to follow his direction, confused as Jongin playfully tells him to turn around - and then Jongin’s arms are around his waist, and Jongin’s voice is close to his ear, explaining how to thread the needle as he holds the fabric in Beomsil’s lap. 

“You just want to pierce from underneath and then over the fabric,” Jongin explains as he demonstrates, peering over Beomsil’s shoulder. “Then pull it taught.”

Jongin can’t help but grin as he watches Beomsil slowly replicate his stitch with clumsy but careful fingers. His back is warm against Jongin’s chest and while Jongin knows he’s a little taller than Beomsil, he didn’t expect him to fit into his arms so perfectly. 

“I like this,” Jongin admits quietly.

“Sewing?” Beomsil asks, distracted.

Jongin squirms, face feeling warm as he tries to get the words out. “Holding...you…”

Beomsil jerks in his hold, nearly pricking himself in surprise as he turns to look at Jongin. They both then freeze up as their faces are just a breath away, lips parted, cheeks flushed. Something in Jongin begs him to lean forward, to cross a line he’s never crossed before, but suddenly Beomsil turns away.

And that’s the first time Jongin feels Beomsil drifting away from him, and he cannot fathom why.

The next day that Jongin arrives at the meadow, he is on his own for such a long time that he begins to fear that Beomsil has forgotten him. Yet, Beomsil does show up, though he offers no explanation as to why he failed to arrive on time, and he is just as reserved as he had been when they first met. Confused and afraid, Jongin is unsure of what to do, his heart aching as he wanders back home during the sunset.

Today, clouds coat the sky in a blanket of dark grey as if Jongdae can sense his son’s somber mood. Minseon takes one look at the sky as they step out in the morning and sighs.

“There is going to be a bad storm tonight,” she says with a frown. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to venture out today.”

“What?” Jongin looks at her in distraught. “B-But I was planning on--”

“No, I am not letting you get stuck in a storm, especially one that might cause a flash flood.” His mother shakes her head, and the look in her eyes leaves no room for argument.

Jongin’s heart sinks, accepting the fact that he won’t be able to meet with Beomsil. Last night, lying on his cot, he had finally resolved himself to confronting Beomsil about the way he has been acting. The nymphs told him to follow his heart, so Jongin thinks the best way to fix the situation is to finally confess to Beomsil, to be true about the way he makes Jongin feel. Maybe then Beomsil will stop this odd hesitation that he seems to be exhibiting towards Jongin.

Minseon sighs. “The sun will be up tomorrow, so don’t look so dejected, my boy.” With a smile, she pinches Jongin’s cheek. “Now, help me stake these mats over the vegetables, lest your father wreck them with his full rage tonight. We’ll have to tie up Chaji and the other animals under the awning to keep them safe as well.”

With rain comes sun, that much is true. The thought lifts Jongin’s mind as he sits inside their cottage during the storm that night, hearing the rain pounding on the rooftop, water leaking into the right corner of the room as it always does. Thunder rumbles and lightning strikes every now and then with the wind whooshing and causing the door to shudder against its frame. He wonders if Beomsil is alright, wherever he may be and hopes that he forgives Jongin for being unable to visit the meadow today.

He and his mother stay up anxiously, afraid of the damage that the storm could cause to their garden or the harm that could befall their animals. Eventually, the storm quietens, and they are both able to sleep until sunrise. That is, until there is panicked knocking at their door. 

Only few mortals know where Jongin and his mother live, and those few know that Minseon prefers privacy unless in case of an emergency. With the storm happening, however, Minseon doesn’t hesitate to get up and see who it is, Jongin sitting up in his cot with a haze of slumber still blanketing him.

“Oh, Minjoo, there has been a terrible tragedy!” It’s one of the villagers that they sometimes trade goods with, only knowing Minseon and Jongin as Minjoo and Jaejin. “Some men and their boys were out hunting and got caught in a mudslide.”

Minseon, with her bleeding heart reserved for mortals, is quick to respond, toeing on her shoes. “I shall bring my cart and mule! We can ride there together.”

Jongin begins to get to his feet, sensing the urgency, but his mother stops him on the way to the door. “Stay here. I need you to make sure our crops and the rest of the animals are back in their pins.”

“Mother, I can help!” Jongin protests, knowing the severity of the situation.

She grabs him by the arms. “No, stay here. I don’t want you in harm’s way. I’ll return before evening, I promise.” Releasing him, Minseon walks out the door, the villager following her.

Slumping in his stance, upset at being treated like a child again, Jongin sighs and listens to his mother take Chaji and the cart away. If just once, he wants to show her that he  _ is  _ capable of more than house and yard work. He should be the one going into town and trading with the villagers and neighbors. He should be the one going to save and help those in need. Jongin isn’t just a small sprout anymore. He has grown into his own being, into his own power.

Power. Beomsil.

With a gasp, Jongin stands. He can help. Beomsil can help. After all, he is connected to the earth and stone, so who’s to say that he isn’t able to aid the village with the mudslide? Jongin’s mother would have quite a few questions, but she wouldn’t be able to deny Jongin after seeing how helpful and kind Beomsil is.

There isn’t much time to think any longer, so Jongin leaves the cottage, telling himself he’ll return later to take care of the chores his mother assigned him. This is the earliest in the day that he has ever journeyed to the meadow, but he knows that Beomsil will come if he calls for him. Jongin sprints through the forest, desperation fueling him. It doesn’t take him very long until he’s bursting into the clearing, panting.

As expected, it is empty, but Jongin steels himself, walking to the middle of the wet meadow and calling, “Beomsil? Do you hear me? Are you watching?”

Nothing but silence, the humid morning air still, and Jongin grows anxious. Maybe he really did drive Beomsil away somehow, and he’ll never see him again. That fear grips Jongin’s heart the longer he waits, calling out Beomsil’s name but to no avail.

It’s only just as he begins to consider giving up and leaving that a cool breeze rustles the dewy meadow. A familiar feeling washes over Jongin, and he automatically turns his head and witnesses Beomsil stepping out. He looks the same as ever, but what stops Jongin from happily running over is the unreadable expression on his face. Something is clearly wrong.

Jongin shakes the nervous feeling. He doesn’t have time to think. “Beomsil, there’s been a terrible mudslide nearby! I-I know it is a lot to ask, but I thought that if anyone could help, it would be you.”

Beomsil closes his eyes, voice soft as he says, “Jongin...I-I can’t.”

Thinking his hesitance is just reluctance, Jongin doesn’t give up. “Beomsil,  _ please _ , it isn’t that far, and the villagers need the help--”

“Jongin, I truly--”

“--You can just lift the mudslide and help the trapped villagers--”

“Jongin--”

“--It shouldn’t be too hard and--”

“ **_Jongin!_ ** ” 

It’s the first time Beomsil has ever raised his voice, and the deep tenor shakes Jongin to the core, so much so that he feels the earth tremble beneath his feet. He looks at Beomsil to see him with clenched fists, staring at Jongin with desperation in his dark, dark eyes.

“B-Beomsil?” Jongin’s voice is small.

“I…” Beomsil lets out a ragged sigh. “I am not who you think I am. I’ve lied to you, Jongin.”

“What?” Jongin asks breathlessly, his heart faltering. “I-I don’t understand...I--You’re Beomsil.”

The desperation and sadness in Beomsil’s eyes only becomes stronger, and Jongin watches as he wordlessly bends down, hand extended, reaching towards one of the rapeseed flowers, yellow and glistening with morning dew.

And then, the young god of vegetation watches the flower begin to droop, the stem crack, the leaves fall, and the petals crumble to dust within mere seconds. All from a single touch. And it breaks Jongin’s heart in two.

The god of death, Kyungsoo, takes a step forward, and Jongin takes a stumbling step back. Their eyes remain locked as Kyungsoo continues towards him, trailing his hand along each flower, destroying the beautiful meadow that each of them had held dear, erasing the traces of life that Jongin had helped cultivate.

Hot tears run down Jongin’s cheeks. “Y-You…” He sobs, not knowing what to say. Beomsil is Kyungsoo, the god of death, and he had lied to him.

“Leave, Jongin, and don’t come back.” The earth rumbles beneath Jongin, causing him to fall onto his behind. He only realizes to scramble away when the ground begins to split, and the air begins to smell strongly of clay, soot, and something altogether...dead.

“I said  **_leave!_ ** ” Kyungsoo’s eyes seem to darken further, and the meadow begins to slowly decay around them.

Jongin is on his feet and running away before he knows it, gasping and sobbing as he brushes by the trees, vision blurring with tears. All he can think is that it’s all over now. It’s all ruined. The meadow and his first love. He had been lied to, misled, and used - just like his mother had always said.

He was foolish, so foolish.

Minseon is understandably upset when she arrives home in the evening, spotting their cow and goat still tied to the post beneath the awning and the garden still covered. Her upset only turns to worry when she lifts the woven mats from the garden to see all the plants wilted and the vegetables and fruits lying forgotten in the dirt, beginning to rot. Throwing the mats down, she then rushes to enter the cottage.

Jongin is curled up on his cot, asleep, but when Minseon goes to kneel down next to him, she notices the tear stains on his cheeks and the heaviness of his breath.

“My boy,” Minseon murmurs, gently shaking him. “Did something happen?”

He rouses slowly, opening his swollen eyes, and when he sees his mother next to him, his face wrinkles into another sob. Minseon holds him tight as he sits up to lean into her embrace, crying into her shoulder.

“Shh, what happened?” She asks again, having not seen him this upset since their old hound passed away.

Jongin shakes his head, rubbing his tears into her blouse. “You were right. T-The woods are dangerous.”

Minseon, feeling her son’s pain, opts to not ask anymore, only thankful that Jongin isn’t hurt. She pets his head and urges him to lie back down. “Alright, rest some more, my little sprout. I’ll make something to eat.”

As she pulls the blanket over him and combs his hair back from his forehead, Jongin thinks to himself that he was wrong. The world is scary, and maybe all he needs in his life is his mother and their home. Comforting himself with that thought, he closes his eyes and tries to will the bad feelings away.

But why does he feel so lonely?

Jongin does his best to forget about Beomsil, or rather Kyungsoo. He stays away from the deeper parts of the woods, much to his mother’s delight, and spends the days tending to their garden or playing with the nymphs. They seem to know something about what happened but don’t ask out of courtesy, much to Jongin’s relief. Jongin just wants to forget it all.

That’s what he tells himself at least, yet when Jongin is sleepless at night, his mind keeps replaying that morning over and over. He can’t help but wonder why. Why did Kyungsoo lie to him? Why did he lead Jongin on for so long, only to reject him in the end? Why was he watching Jongin in the first place? Was any of it real at all?

He wants to ask Kyungsoo all of these questions, but a part of him is afraid. While Kyungsoo had frightened him with his display of power, Jongin is more scared of the possibility that the man he met isn’t the real one. What if Kyungsoo, the god of death, is different from Beomsil, the god of pebble and stone? Perhaps, Jongin fell for someone who didn’t exist in the first place.

But it felt so genuine, genuine in the way that Kyungsoo initially confessed to him, the way he hesitated every action when they first met, and the way he would patiently listen to Jongin, help with his chores, or just bask in the sunlight with Jongin. Those aren’t the actions of someone seeking power or wanting to cause pain. 

Then why...why did Kyungsoo drive him away?

As that thought begins to echo in his mind, Jongin begins to feel a different kind of sadness take ahold of him, one of longing and confusion. It’s with that that he starts to reconsider visiting the woods again, though he knows his mother would disapprove. However, Jongin can’t shake the need to get the answers he deserves.

So, when Minseon leaves to go into the village, Jongin ventures back into the woods.

His heart pounds in his chest as he reaches the meadow, and it aches at the sight of its ruined fauna. All of the long grass and rapeseed flowers are dead, the life sucked out of the small patch of land. Jongin can’t find the strength or will to do anything about it, only taking a few slow steps and collapsing onto his knees in the center of the once-meadow.

His lips tremble as he whispers, “Why? Why did you do this?”

“I thought I was special. I...I thought what  _ we _ had was special.” Jongin shuts his eyes, feeling them burn with unshed tears. “Every day, I looked forward to seeing you, to speaking with you. Every time our eyes met, I-I felt like my heart was leaping out of my chest.”

“Did you not feel the same way? Were you lying when you said all of those wonderful things about me? I don’t understand!” Jongin hiccups, the tears beginning to cascade down his cheeks. “You told me to leave, but I can’t! I can’t stay away! You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.”

Lifting his hands, Jongin tries to wipe at his tears as he sobs. “I-I just want my Beomsil back! I’m so lonely without you. Please come back!”

His sorrow echoes through the trees, and the silence that fills the air in between his hitched breaths and tearful cries seems to mock him. Jongin doesn’t care anymore. He wants to drown out these thoughts that swirl around his head, just wants the pain and heartache to go away. Is this what a first love is supposed to feel like?

“I…” Jongin weeps, his voice a whisper. “I love you.”

A warm breeze.

Chilled hands cup his cheeks, thumbs wiping away saltwater, and Jongin’s teary brown eyes flutter open to see Kyungsoo kneeling before him. His black eyes are shining with emotion - loneliness, confusion, but most of all adoration. Jongin doesn’t lean away, only closes his eyes when Kyungsoo moves closer, and their lips meet.

The meadow bursts into life beneath Jongin as the young god’s first kiss is stolen away. Green bleeds over dull grays and browns, the grass growing as the shriveled rapeseed flowers raise their stems and blossom around them. The fauna seems to sing around the pair, newer buds sprouting by their feet. Meanwhile, Jongin feels like he’s floating.

Kyungsoo’s lips are warm and soft against his own, and the pressure is inviting, not forceful. It’s as if Jongin has spent all of this time underwater, and he’s finally able to take a breath. Opening his eyes as Kyungsoo pulls away, Jongin lets out a soft breath and looks at him in wonder.

“Please, don’t cry for me,” Kyungsoo murmurs with a sad smile, wiping the last of Jongin’s tears away. “You make it so hard to stay away.”

“I-I never wanted you to stay away.” Jongin’s lips tremble, fighting the urge to cry again now that Kyungsoo is before him. “Why? Why did you want to hurt me? Why did you lie to me?”

Sighing, Kyungsoo lowers his hands and gaze. “What would you have thought if the god of death appeared in front of you so suddenly? If you saw that he was watching you? You would’ve been so afraid. I...I thought that by lying, I was protecting you from the truth of who I am.”

Jongin sniffles. “It was selfish. You’re selfish.”

Kyungsoo closes his eyes and clenches his fists. “I know.” He looks so hurt and full of regret that Jongin regrets saying it.

“Was all of it lies then? Everything?” Jongin asks, though he isn’t sure he wants to hear the answer.

“No, never,” Kyungsoo answers quickly, opening his eyes in surprise. “My...My feelings for you are real. They always have been and always will be. The only moment I lied was when I introduced myself to you.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“Everything I touch dies, Jongin. Mortals despise me, and the other gods look at me in disgust. I realized that you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me, and I couldn’t continue to lie to you.” Kyungsoo sighs. “I decided to drive you away for your own good.”

“I never asked you to make that decision for me.” Jongin frowns, scowling at him. “If you truly knew me, you would know that I wouldn’t care. I-I fell in love with you because you make me feel special. You listen to me and care about me, and I have never felt this way about anyone before.” His anger fades the more he speaks, and Kyungsoo becomes more and more shocked.

“You...You don’t mind who I am? What I am capable of?” Kyungsoo looks at him in wonder.

Jongin shakes his head and reaches out to hold Kyungsoo’s hands in his. “I’m upset that you destroyed our meadow, but I will never be afraid of you, even if you are much more than a pebble and stone god.” He smiles. “You’re still my Beomsil, are you not?”

“I am.” Kyungsoo raises their intertwined hands, kissing Jongin’s knuckles. “I always will be.”

“Don’t leave me again,” Jongin says with finality and a stern look. “I won’t forgive you next time.”

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll take your word for it.” Kyungsoo smiles, and for a moment Jongin can’t believe that the god of death has a smile so sweet. How could anyone not adore him?

Oh, he loves him. He loves him.

Kyungsoo’s breath leaves him with a whoosh as Jongin embraces him passionately, causing them to tumble to the earth. Landing on his back with a grunt, Kyungsoo is surprised to feel Jongin clinging to him, muffling what Kyungsoo thinks are sobs, the wet feeling on his neck only confirming that. His heart aches, thinking that he is still causing Jongin to be upset, and Kyungsoo is about to apologize again, but Jongin speaks up.

“I really do love you,” Jongin cries into Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Please don’t leave me.”

This time, Kyungsoo hardly hesitates embracing him back, pressing a soft kiss to Jongin’s head. “I love you too, even though I am undeserving.”

Jongin feels the words seep into his skin, a feeling so warm and light inside his chest. It feels like he has regained a part of himself that he had lost for so long, and with that comes the realization that he truly is experiencing his first love. Another smile blooms on his face as he shifts to lie more comfortably on Kyungsoo’s chest, a hand raising to brush his own lips. They had kissed.

He cranes his head up to look at Kyungsoo, whose gaze is resting on the sky. “Will you kiss me again?”

As expected, Kyungsoo’s cheeks turn that peony pink as he looks at Jongin. “I-If you would like me to.”

Jongin hums. “I would like it, yes.” He moves closer in anticipation.

Kyungsoo chuckles before leaning over to press another soft kiss to Jongin’s lips. It only lasts a few seconds, but Jongin chases him as he pulls away, mumbling a quick, “Oh, one more please,” with his eyes still closed. Unable to deny him, Kyungsoo gives in again. And again. And again.

When Jongin returns home just before evening, his lips are pleasantly red, and the god of death is his lover.

**Author's Note:**

> i may add another chapter to this when i can to give some closure and end the story properly. kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated~


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